


Nauseous Pull

by BuruRaven



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: But The Current Plot Is Only Referred To Very Lightly, Canon Compliant Up To Chapter 111, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Was Going Somewhere With This But I Lost Track Of My Storytelling Thread, Night, No Slash, No plot whatsoever, Sick Ciel, Snow, Winter, You Can Read This Whenever Really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:05:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuruRaven/pseuds/BuruRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Lit a candle or something, I can’t see anything.”, this last bit said in a clearly petulant tone of voice.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Sebastian chuckles discreetly, but still obediently goes to light the candle on the earl’s nightstand, not before sitting the boy on a clean edge of the bed covers.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“How fortunate of you, Young Master. It’s not a very pretty sight to behold.”, he retorts, not completely unkindly.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>The candle light illuminates the earl’s pale, exhausted features just in time to disclose Ciel’s poorly concealed mortification, which he swiftly replaces with a magnificent sardonic smile.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“If it’s still untidy it is only because you have failed to correct it.”</i>
  <br/>
  <i>“But of course. I shall take care of it right away, Young Master.”, the demon replies, amused.</i>
</p><p>You can also find this fic on my tumblr, <a href="http://bururaven.tumblr.com/post/136771919459/nauseous-pull">here</a>.</p><p>TRANSLATION TO ITALIAN: <a href="http://www.efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=3674523">Richiamo Nauseato</a>, by Ratchettina</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nauseous Pull

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler. Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler is the property of Yana Toboso, and is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this, nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

It’s a white, cold winter night and all lights are out at the Phantomhive Manor. The snow has stopped falling in the early hours of darkness and, now, the clear, cloud-free night sky is sprinkled with countless stars and a round, bright full moon. All is quiet, the kind of eerie calm silence that comes only after a great snowfall.

The snowed on trees, bushes and other garden plants, partially illuminated by the moonlight, cast peculiar shadows on the equally snowed on grounds of the manor’s facade. Some look like odd-shaped animals and distorted human-like figures.

And such is the scene upon which mesmerizing red eyes rest each time their demonic owner allows them to drift away from his work and look through the uncovered window glass. Which, this particular night, is quite often. How atypical of him. And also, how rather annoying.

The pull of the contract is feeble, barely there. Much like every time his master has nightmares. Nightmares have made the pull sharp and piercing on occasion, but the degree of distress on this particular night is something Sebastian would call normal, were it not for the fact that it has been persistently there for longer than an hour now. Hence the “rather annoying” component of it.

With only the moonlight illuminating the piece of paper before him, Sebastian finishes writing “2 dozen tall white candles” at the bottom of Mey-Rin’s shopping list for the following day and releases an exasperated sigh as the pull of the contract suddenly escalates, only to slowly drop to its previous annoyingly untiring levels.

Deciding it’s time to shake the Young Master out of his oddly persistent nightmare, Sebastian raises from his desk by the window and buttons his waistcoat up. A muffled thump, closely followed by a pained groan and the clinking sound of something metallic comes from Earl Phantomhive’s bed chambers and that is the definitive reason that actually brings the demon to the little lord’s presence.

Sebastian knocks on the carved wooden door, but enters the room without waiting for a reply. That very moment, Ciel retches painfully into his chamber pot. As the foul smell of vomit permeates Sebastian’s nostrils, the demon quickly takes in the scene before him. The recently vomit soiled, messy bed clothes have been thoroughly disturbed by a restless occupant. That same little, pale, shivering occupant lays on the floor by the bed, half-kneeling, half-leaning his head against the bed covers behind him. In front of him is the chamber pot filled with the same contents that had before filled his stomach.

The pull of the contract escalates once more, which translates into the child tilting forward to again retch painfully into his chamber pot. Despite the repulsive sight and smell, Sebastian is on him immediately, rubbing the boy’s back soothingly through the convulsions. After the empty gag efforts have stopped, Ciel groans weakly and sways. Sebastian takes a hold of his small charge before he dives face first into his own spew and steals him from the cold floor. Ciel’s white nightgown is also soiled with vomit and the child shivers against his butler’s chest.

“Se-sebastian?”, Ciel whispers weakly.

“Yes, Young Master?”

“Lit a candle or something, I can’t see anything.”, this last bit said in a clearly petulant tone of voice.

Sebastian chuckles discreetly, but still obediently goes to light the candle on the earl’s nightstand, not before sitting the boy on a clean edge of the bed covers.

“How fortunate of you, Young Master. It’s not a very pretty sight to behold.”, he retorts, not completely unkindly.

The candle light illuminates the earl’s pale, exhausted features just in time to disclose Ciel’s poorly concealed mortification, which he swiftly replaces with a magnificent sardonic smile.

“If it’s still untidy it is only because you have failed to correct it.”

“But of course. I shall take care of it right away, Young Master.”, the demon replies, amused.

That said, the butler grabs the vomit filled chamber pot and vanishes into the adjacent bathroom for a couple seconds. On his return, he gathers the shivering little lord into his arms once again, which has Ciel protest indignantly.

“Put me down, demon! What are you doing?”

Sebastian stops midway to the bathroom.

“I am _correcting it_. I am taking you to the bathroom, so I can wash the contents of your stomach off your skin and hair and change you into a clean nightgown. I am carrying you because you are barefoot.”, Sebastian replies calmly.

Ciel’s facial expression again tilts towards mortification, but is quickly replaced by another. This time, a rather despotic consent, marked by a curt nod.

In a couple of minutes, Ciel is sitting inside a bathtub filled with perfectly heated, lavender-scented water. Sebastian exits into the bedroom and returns right before the earl starts wondering where he went, closing the door behind himself.

“Perhaps there was some sickness roaming the air of that filthy place.”, Sebastian remarks, while gently rubbing Ciel’s hair with soap. “You have a fever.”

Ciel nods. “I still am queasy, even though my stomach seems empty. And my head hurts.”

The earl can’t see it, for his butler stands behind him, but Sebastian’s elegant features contort into a reproachful and disgusted expression while recalling the mass of too close human bodies of all social classes surrounding his gourmet dish, on the previous night. Many of those lowly creatures both accidently and intentionally dared to touch his delicious contractor, Sebastian was much too aware of that fact.

“I will prepare you a tea after your bath.”

Ciel nods again, closing his eyes. After a few minutes of the rubbing and washing of other body parts, a thump coming from the bedroom has the earl suddenly open his eyes and look at his butler apprehensively.

“Just Mey-Rin changing the bed clothes, Young Master.”, Sebastian offers calmly.

Ciel’s reaction to this piece of information is priceless. He blushes a furious red and whispers accusingly “Why don’t **you** do that?”

“Because I am attending to the Young Master and Mey-Rin is the Phantomhives’ maid.”, the butler answers reasonably.

Ciel opens his mouth to retaliate, but seems to slowly conform himself to his humiliating predicament and allows Sebastian to finish his bath, not another word exchanged between the two.

The moment the butler whisks his master out of the water, the shivering resumes with a vengeance. Judging by the earl’s pallor and timely-demon-interrupted sway, so does the nausea and the dizziness.

“Can you walk yourself to the bed, Young Master?”, Sebastian asks, with a badly hidden smile.

“Of course I can!”, Ciel counters indignantly.

“Of course.”, the butler replies respectfully, taking one step backwards to stop his hovering over the sickly child.

The little lord straightens his back and lifts his chin, haughtily - yet slowly and carefully - walking through the door the demon gracefully opens for him.

… Only to be greeted by one rather sleep-dishevelled Mey-Rin, still adjusting the top cover on the newly-made bed. Ciel freezes in place, firmly closing is uncovered right eye while Mey-Rin nervously adjusts her glasses.

“Wi-will you be needing anything else, Young Master?”

“No, that… that will be all. Thank you, Mey-Rin.”, Ciel replies weakly.

Mey-Rin awkwardly pats her apron once, as if shaking off some kind of transparent dust and makes a little curtsy, looking up in Sebastian’s general direction, then quickly walks to the door.

“I hope you feel better soon, Young Master. Er… so, if you’ll excuse me…”, she says softly before exiting the room, quietly closing the door behind herself.

For a couple of seconds, Ciel valiantly fights the need to either face-palm or hide under a rock. Until a sudden cough attack rudely interrupts him, that is. The boy sways again; just the walk from the bathroom to the bed had been exhausting. He’s so focused on the cough and the effort to stay upright that he completely misses Sebastian lifting him from the floor to the bed until the covers are up to his chin.

Sebastian’s gloved hand gently pushes a few stray hair locks away from the boy’s right eye, where the proof of their contract shines.

“Rest now, Young Master. I’ll bring you your tea right away.”

Ciel nods, the nausea and dizziness preventing him from showing his displeasure over being needlessly manhandled.

When the door closes for the second time, Ciel sighs and takes a hand to his burning forehead, only to deliver it back to the warmth of the bed covers as his nausea intensifies.

The little lord will never admit it, but he wishes his demon butler to be back at his side for the duration of every single second that he is gone. Sebastian will know it, though. _How rather annoying_.


End file.
